What You See Is What You Get. This is a journal blog, an explore-blog, a bit of this and that blog. Sharing where the mood takes me. Perhaps it will take you too.

Menondering; This, That And The Other

How'd ya all be? Feel like we are already plummeting through another year? I mean, there is less of the first month left than has been already...

The decs came down on the 6th (Epiphany), as has long been my habit. This year, though, something changed. The tree itself (an artificial one, with affixed berries and cones) remains standing, and I have kept the tray of pinecones and greenery that holds the Advent candles in place. You have seen what is mostly outside Hutch's windows. The need for colour inside is keenly felt. It was also the case, in times of Yule, that the green boughs brought inside on Michaelmas (late September) remained (and were refreshed) right through to late February. There is some argument for believing that the use of pine, in particular, had practical purposes - deodorising and insect control. I can't make that claim with my synthetic tree, but it will do for resting the eyes for now.

Resting the eyes is important, given how much screen time they get. Much too much binging of entire television series, some of them quite old - crikey, when did 2002 become 'old'??!! That was The Last Detective - not groundbreaking policing, but entertaining and highly watchable ploddery. Also intriguing were the six cases of Nazi Murder Mysteries. For my taste, the narrator is a tad on the melodramatic side, but he isn't around enough to spoil this televisual sleuthing of cold cases from a very hot war. I am not going to list everything (some forgettable items are already forgotten) - but I will say, for those able to access BBC iPlayer, that Hidden Assets is definitely worth your time. As is Four Lives. Classy stuff in a way that Rules Of The Game was not.

Aside from gazing out the window or into the screen, I have been listening to a couple of books from the #1 Ladies Detective Agency series and have begun reading an actual book, gifted by Gail, called Braiding Sweetgrass (Robin Wall Kimmerer), which, although only a third through it yet, I can highly recommend. Very readable social and cultural context, combining facts and inherited wisdom. 

The crochet projects sit out, haunting me. When I do finally lift the hook, look out, world...

I said the year was already moving at pace. Next Friday is FFF - the first of the year!

And here is the new badge - download it to add to your FFF posts, or place it on your sidebar (ta!) Currently, about five of you are participating; let's see if we can encourage some more! Writing is such an excellent way to express ourselves.

It doesn't have to be literary - it does need to be original and from the heart, and, importantly, it should be fun for you to write and share! Check out the 'rulez' (guidelines, really) on the page up top if you are new here. 

One last thing - there have been some weird goings-on in the ether. Some blog posts turn up late on my dashboard reader - or not at all. Others sometimes keep returning to the top of the list each time I refresh the page as if just published. There is no consistency. However, if you are used to seeing me comment - or at a particular time - and that doesn't happen, know that this might be the issue. (OR, I'm Isomniacal - see yesterday's post!) 

Please remember that if you comment on a post older than 21 days on this blog (or three days on the photoblog), your comment goes to moderation... and I don't always remember to check there, so forgive delayed publication!

'S all for now. As you were.

Menolyrical; Insomniacal

Yesterday, in the 'wee smalls' this is what transpired - and the muse finally returned...

I sleep not
and gaze upon the turtle cloud
a gaseous shroud
and watch it turn
at the gale winds behest
become blue whale

I sleep not
and gaze upon the wolven moon
that winter light
so piercing bright
making a mockery of night
and of my will to fight 

I sleep not
and gaze upon the scudding bank
of cotton candy
white bulbous billows
the stuffing of pillows
in which I see more
waving hands

I sleep not
and dream upon distant lands
know these words I must jot
lest they be forgot
and are lost
on that long road of 
fragile mentality
mental fragility
lost to the land of crumbling grey where 
I sleep not

©Yamini Ali MacLean 2022

Menoizikul; Midweek Musicalisms

The third in our little series of medieval tunes is a very subtle, calming affair. Confusing, for it sounds and feels almost more spiritual than the one from last week - which was religious. But here it is, a song about a dream of fancy goods from an ancient book of law, in Old East Norse (precursor to Danish).